


Look Good in That Tux

by waterbird13



Series: Tumblr Fics [19]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Explicit Sex, M/M, Top Sam, semi public sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 04:51:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3882964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterbird13/pseuds/waterbird13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They should be working, but Sam can't keep his eyes--and his hands--off his brother. Dean doesn't exactly mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Look Good in That Tux

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone--
> 
> This is a fic being migrated over from Tumblr.  
> Warnings include: explicit wincest, top Sam, tuxes, semi-public sex, and sex during what is technically a case. Think that's it.  
> Prompt was: Sam and Dean have to go undercover at a fancy part but Sam's having a hard time focusing because Dean looks absolutely delicious in his tuxedo.  
> Hope you enjoy.

  “Sam? Sam!”

            Sam snaps out of, focusing back on what Dean is saying instead of the cut of his tuxedo, how good it looks on him. “Yeah?”

            Dean rolls his eyes. “You actually gonna help, or you just gonna stare at me all night?”

            Sam shrugs guiltily. “Can I do both?”

            Dean grins. “Case now. Sex later, Sammy.”

            “That sounds so  _wrong_  coming out of your mouth. You never turn down sex.”

            Dean whaps him on the arm. “Shut up and let’s finish this.”

            They avoid party guests and check four different rooms before they finally spot the antique locket in a corner case. Thankfully, it’s not alarmed, so Dean easily pops it open and Sam pulls the locket out, flips it open to confirm that it does indeed contain a lock of hair. He drops it into a wastebasket and burns it.

            It takes a while to burn, so they have to stand around, watching it, making sure no one comes in to see a mysterious fire or, worse, put it out.

            Sam gets bored relatively quickly, sliding his hands under Dean’s jacket, running up Dean’s back and pulling him close. “You look so  _fucking_  good,” Sam murmurs when they’re nose to nose.

            He takes one hand off of Dean’s back and grabs the individual packet of lube he grabbed earlier. Dean whistles when he sees it. “Someone was planning ahead.”

            “Shut up,” Sam says. “Saw you in that tux, knew I wasn’t going to be able to resist. Now, that table over there is Victorian and expensive as fuck, I’d guess. I wanna fuck you on it. You good with that?”

            Dean nods eagerly so Sam lifts him up. Dean wraps his legs around Sam’s waist and lets Sam carry him across the room. Sam lays him gently on the table and pulls the pants down to Dean’s ankles.

            Sam chuckles. “No underwear?”

            Dean shrugs. “Figured you were gonna fuck me at some point. Now, are you?”

            Sam rips open the packet and coats his fingers, pushing gently at Dean’s hole until Dean opens up for him. He slides his finger in and goes directly for Dean’s prostate, making Dean moan and push down onto Sam’s finger.

            Sam grins and pushes in a second finger, then a third, teasing at Dean’s prostate until Dean is writhing on his fingers, whimpering and moaning. Sam uses his free hand to take his own cock out, stroking slowly a few times.

            “Want more?” Sam asks.

            “Fuck, yes,” Dean hisses. “In me, now, or I swear—“

            Sam takes his fingers out and lines up his cock, pushing inside Dean with one deep thrust.

            “ _Fuck_ ,” Dean whimpers, arching his back and pushing his hips towards Sam, trying to get Sam deeper, as far inside him as he con possibly go.

            Sam grips Dean’s hips, holding him steady on the table as he begins to thrust, deep, hard strokes that leave Dean a whimpering mess. Sam looks at Dean, who’s mouth is open and panting, the green practically gone from his eyes, his pupils so wide with lust. His jacket and dress shirt are wrinkles, his pants punched around his ankles. And if Sam thought he looked good fully dressed, well, this is far, far better.

            He can’t hold off much longer, so he wraps his hand around Dean’s cock and begins to stroke. Dean comes with an aborted yell, and Sam does his best to catch most of Dean’s come in his hand so Dean doesn’t mess up their expensive rented tuxes.

            Dean’s clenching hole proves to much to resist, and Sam comes with a loud groan, eyes closing in bliss.

            When he finally opens them again, Dean is grinning at him, looking completely satisfied. “Hand me your handkerchief?” Sam asks, and after a moment, Dean reaches into his breast pocket and hands Sam the little square of decorative fabric. Sam wipes his hand, his cock, and Dean’s ass and thighs quickly before throwing the cloth into the waste basket with the slowly dying-out fire.

            “Hey!” Dean objects. “That was part of the rental.

            Sam snorts. “We rented these with a fake credit card, Dean, and let me tell you, we are  _not_  returning it.”

            “Oh yeah?” Dean asks teasingly. “Liked it a bit, did you?”

            He grins back at Dean, watching his completely debauched lover try to make himself look presentable but utterly failing. “It looks fantastic on you,” is all Sam says.


End file.
